How 'bout you Jimmie, you an oak man?

01/26/2007

Just For The Record.

My girlfriend is the Patron Saint of Compassion for putting up with all of my amazing shit. We're not talking little shit here, we're talking "World-Class, Gold Standard Neurotic-Crazy Shit."

While I'm a damn rewarding boyfriend-- the best the world has ever seen, ladies, and don't you forget it-- I admit that I'm not always an easy one. The good Nurse not only put up with a lot, she was waiting for me on the other side of a heaping steaming pile of introspective crap I've forced myself to deal with for far too long.

For her infinite patience and understanding, the most secure and stable woman I've ever known-- yes, I know the very phrase is an oxymoron, but in this case it's true-- she earns the Garfield Ridge No-Prize. Which earns her a cold and frosty beer at happy hour tonight, and maybe an extra 30 best-seconds-of-her-life later on this evening.

No, I'm not being paid to write this-- I just thought I'd share. And brag.

Yup, that's the most important piece of advice to you, the readers: always enjoy the ride, for as long as you can.

Oh, and always get a pre-nup. You know, if you're getting married and stuff. Which I'm not.